


A Love Too Heavy (For Just One To Hold)

by nonbeenarys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Figuring Things Out, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23506852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbeenarys/pseuds/nonbeenarys
Summary: After pining after Y/N for years, Sirius finally gets the girl: the happy ending the story is supposed to end with.  The only problem is the fact Sirius' feelings for Remus still haven't seemed to go away.  But he isn't the only one starting to question their ability to love two people at the same time.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sirius' POV

Spring was full and bright all around Hogwarts. The chirp of birds rhythmically punctuated the soft breezes that tossed up ponytails and rustled seeds off of daffodils. While most of the students in the courtyard were staring at all of these beauties of early April, Sirius was busy studying the light breathing of his girlfriend’s breathing while she slept, head resting on his leg. 

Y/N was undeniably beautiful, even without the fascinating contrast of light and shadow passing over her face from the evermoving clouds in the sky. Sirius noticed it the first moment he saw her. Despite the crowd of students at the Sorting Ceremony and the grandeur of the Great Hall, the thing Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off of was a girl who was sorted into Slytherin. It was enough to make him upset to have been sorted into Gryffindor; luckily, his new friends were rewarded enough for being covered in gold and red. 

Hogwarts was just large enough that Sirius’ path never truly crossed with Y/N’s during first year, but just small enough that he’d see her across courtyards or libraries: a rude reawakening of his crush. He pushed it off, learning about his roommates instead; Peter had never been out of the country, Remus had a big appetite for chocolate, James really did need his glasses, Remus always put his right shoe on before his left, Peter talked in his sleep and James tossed and turned in his, Remus had read every book known to man, James loved puns, Remus liked sly remarks (and was good at making them), Peter preferred biking places, and Remus drank most everything out of his assortment of mugs. 

It wasn’t until second year that Remus had class with Y/N: herbology. Never did he think he’d enjoy plants so much, but he entered the greenhouse skipping. While he was slow to break the house pride divide, when it was first demanded that the students find partners from another house “to learn how to cooperate with people that have different strengths,” Sirius was quick to find an open spot by Y/N’s side. 

“Finally,” she said. “I’ve caught you staring at me before. I’ve been wondering if I resemble some second cousin of yours that got kicked out of the family for something.” 

“No. You’re far too pretty to be mistaken for poor old Wilbur.” 

She brushed off the compliment: “That sounds like a pig’s name.” But she was blushing. 

“Why do you think he got kicked out? He was a pig!” 

The grin that formed during the exchange lasted for the rest of the day. 

“Mate, you better be careful,” James warned at dinner, the chicken dangling out of his mouth wildly contradicting his tone. “You don’t want to seem too eager.”

Sirius’ eyes darted from Y/N to James. “Me? Too eager? What, have I turned into a mirror?” 

Peter sniggered; Remus shot a secret smile Sirius’ way, the one that meant good job, you amused me. “What’s that supposed to mean,” James whined. 

“Have you seen yourself around you-know-who?” 

“I thought we agreed to call her she-who-must-not-be-named. It’s much more mysterious.” 

“We could call her by her name if you had the guts to go after her,” Remus added nonchalantly. Sirius looked at him to give him the same smile of appreciation Sirius had gotten but moments earlier. 

“It’s my safety feature,” James said. “If I had balls, I’d be irresistible.” 

Peter almost choked on his potatoes. Which were mashed. 

“Well I do have balls,” Sirius argued. “So I am irresistible.” 

And irresistible he was. Sirius wasn’t sure what exactly it was: the “don’t give two fucks” demeanor, the fact he was an extremely amateur electric guitarist, his perpetually unlaced combat boots, or the fact he had a naturally flirtatious personality (he even flirted with James and Peter for fun), but people batted eyelashes and bit lips and blushed up their necks. By year four, Sirius realized he could almost get anything by calling someone “love” or “darling” in the right way. Essays were written and proofread, reading was skimmed then recapped, Butterbeer was sent to tables free of charge. By year five, Sirius found that some first-years were betting on which of them could get Sirius to ask them out. By year six, it seemed as though Sirius had all of Hogwarts under his finger.

Except, of course, Y/N. When Sirius would widen his eyes and part his lips in pleading, Y/N would just shove the parchment, quills, and ink back into his lap. 

“I have my own work to do, Sirius,” Y/N scolded, burying her head back into her textbook. “If you do it with me, like Rem, I’ll help and discuss. But I’m not going to risk my grade for you.” 

Sirius grinned, hiding the fact his stomach turned at Remus’ name. At Remus’ lack of acknowledgment of the compliment; he was sitting next to Y/N, also engrossed in reading, not nearly happy enough to be wanted by someone as amazing as her. He had to clear his throat to ask, “Am I really not worth the risk?”

Without taking a beat to pause, she responded, “Not really, considering I already have all of your attention, anyways.” Remus looked up at that comment, staring at Sirius with a smirk. Sirius gave him an obviously fake smile, teeth gritted and eyes dark, which automatically disintegrated when Remus threw a spare quill at him. 

Sirius’ frustration wasn’t momentary; Y/N’s words were like a spell stuck in his head, floating around, never settling. It was true: although she was a constant presence in his daily life, Y/N quipped and quarreled with him like she was James or Peter. Was it because he would give her more of his hours than a day could provide? Because he’d so obviously drop anything to help her without any explanation needed? Because, even after so many years and so many beautiful people with lovely souls and smiles, Sirius would still choose her, each and every time? 

Was his ardent desire the one thing pushing her away? 

Sleep was futile after that comment, leaving Sirius tossing around his bed like a hurricane. His mattress creaked below him with every overexaggerated movement. After about half an hour of this, a shadow formed above his tired—but sleepless—eyes. Sirius opened them to Remus standing there, coat on over his pyjamas. 

“Sneak out with me?” he grinned. 

“But of course.” 

They took the invisibility cloak and went to Black Lake, their usual spot. The cold air helped numb Sirius’ aching tiredness, beginning to match his energy level with his inability to sleep. Even when he sat down on dewy grass next to Remus, he felt endlessly more awake. 

“You kept moving in your bed,” Remus said, looking straight out towards the lake. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

_Yes,_ Sirius’ insides gasped. _Yes, because you’re a good listener and my best friend._

Outwardly, Sirius matched Remus’ indifference. “You don’t want to know.”

Remus looked at him. But it felt more like through him, through his flesh and bones, to the heart pumping and beating and quaking. “What do you know about what I want?” 

Remus’ eyes looked like the lake they were sitting in front of: deep, beautiful, dancing with the glittery reflection of starlight. Suddenly, Sirius was aware of how close they were sitting to one another. Suddenly, his heart wasn’t only beating and pumping and quaking, but skipping beats. 

Because, if Sirius was being honest with himself, there wasn’t always only one person. Of course, Y/N caught his eye first, but seeing her was a rare phenomenon at first, only becoming a constant enough to be a reason for Sirius to wake up everyday during third year. But since the beginning there was Remus Lupin. Remus, who had a big appetite for chocolate, always put his right shoe on before his left, had read every book known to man, liked sly remarks and was good at making them, and drank most everything out of his assortment of mugs. Remus, who had a talent for making him feel happy, be it through a crude joke or a secret smile or a quill to the head. 

Remus, who he had been this close to kissing before. At some party in fourth year, when everyone was too young to have alcohol but still acted drunk, and people were playing spin the bottle. On his turn, he spun, and the neck of the bottle missed Remus by something Sirius had naively labeled “luck.”

“It’s a pity,” Remus teased. “I’d be a good snog, you know.” 

Now, almost three years later, Sirius was finally ready to believe him. 

But, in fear of wanting too much, too many, two, Sirius turned away. “I know what I want,” he lied, stupidly, desperately, painfully. 

Not wanting to have ruined his friendship for nothing, the next day, he found Y/N and asked her to Hogsmeade that weekend. 

“With James and Peter and Rem—” 

“No,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Just the two of us.” 

_“Oh.”_

“Listen, I don’t know what you think about how I’ve treated you for the past few years, but God, Y/N, I just… I’ve liked you so much since the moment we met. And I just didn’t know how to act around you except being my normal arsehole self—which is no excuse to have been an arse, I know— but you just always… you’ve never let me catch up to how I feel about you.” 

Y/N was laughing. Was this just some sick joke to her? Sirius went to open his mouth again, but before he could, she was saying, “I guess that’s better than hiding it in a diary and pretending it's not real.” 

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You can’t… do you really feel the same?” 

“Sirius, you are a massive—” Y/N said, while taking his hand in hers, “—absolute, oblivious, fool. Why would anyone hang out with you willingly if they weren’t totally weak for you?” 

Sirius laughed. Part of it was joy that he got to squeeze Y/N’s hand in his, feel it, hold it, support it. But part of it was false; for, that statement could apply to Y/N as much as it could apply to Remus. 

Now, a few months later, Sirius and Y/N had had their first date, first kiss, first night together, full of writhing and gasping and “I love you’s” mouthed directly onto skin. Every time he looked at her, he still saw her as the breathtaking girl across the dining hall at the Sorting Ceremony, as tough his eyes were time capsules incapable of encapsulating the beauty of what they held. Maybe he kept her at a distance subconsciously. Maybe it was because he knew he wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship he wanted to have with her. Or maybe, he knew having her love would feel too real to fathom, too large to hold, and he couldn’t manage to make himself do it until there were no other options than to get past the fear and learn to carry the love he used to secrete. 

Even while looking at her now, he was in awe. 

Even while looking at her now, he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had kissed Remus the night before. 

Perhaps things would be less tense now; the dorm room would be wordless if it weren’t for James’ nonsensical but necessary blabber and Peter’s desire to talk whenever an awkward silence broke. Perhaps it would be as loud as it used to be (if not louder, for obvious reasons) if Sirius hadn’t so obviously turned himself away from something he wasn’t against as much as afraid of. Perhaps, more than the kiss itself, Sirius now longed for a bit of normalcy, wishing he could have both the girl of his dreams and his best friend. Be it in the same way, in different ways… 

Sirius was so deep in thought he didn’t realize he was staring across the courtyard with narrowed eyes and that Y/N had wordlessly awoken from her slumber. Both of these realizations happened at once, when Sirius felt a touch to the bridge of his nose that didn’t come from his own fingers. 

He looked down to a Y/N happy enough to be faking a pout. “What’s that for?” she asked, referencing the furrow between his brow she had helped calm. 

Sirius sighed. His hand rose to lift Y/N’s finger off of his face, directing it to slip into the crooks between his fingers instead. Despite the apparent intimacy of the gesture, Sirius was removed; if he felt more comfortable, his eyes would meet Y/N’s, which they couldn’t do. “I just feel… I don’t know why, Y/N, but I really think, for some reason, Moony’s angry with me.” 

“Oh.” Now the frown was real. “Do you really not know why, or is this one of those ‘I don’t want to admit I did something wrong’ moments?” 

“Come again?” 

Y/N sat up, making it more difficult to avoid her eyes. “I just feel like you both know one another awfully well for you to not know how you could make the other mad.” 

“I guess,” Sirius blew out a breath, “We, um, argued… and both took it more seriously than we needed to. Now neither of us will crack first.” It wasn’t far from the truth: both of them had taken that moment with immense weight in the way it shifted the dynamic of their relationship, and now, neither of them wanted to bring it up to the other. 

“You’re both mature enough to have that conversation,” Y/N complimented. 

“Yeah. I just think he’s not done cooling down from it. I don’t want to push him again too soon.” Again, not far from the truth. But it was still a lie. A second lie, which worried Sirius in the ease of its formulation and distribution.

“Well, I’m headed to study with him now. So if you want, I can ask some not-very-sly-because-they’re-far-too-pointed questions.” 

Sirius finally met Y/N’s eyes; now, it was she who was wearing a tense brow. Sirius echoed her previous movement to relax the spot before kissing it. “Would you do that for me?” 

“But of course,” Y/N smiled, standing up. She collected a few things from the ground: her cardigan, her bookbag, a dandelion. She held it up to Sirius’ mouth. “Wish me luck?” 

Sirius blew and watched the seeds dance around him. But, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t quite sure what he was wishing for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus' POV

Y/N was looking effortlessly sunkissed when she entered the library. Remus, ever the early bird, was already at their usual table waiting. Books were out, parchment unrolled. But he didn’t actually begin working, just had the illusion of doing such, so that he could seem as though he was caught off guard by looking up and seeing Y/N, instead of her knowing the truth of his patient waiting for her. About halfway across the library to their table, they caught eyes. Y/N smiled at him, and he tapped his inked quill so quickly against the parchment he felt some blue splatter onto the back of his hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, even though it was Remus that was early, and both of them knew it. 

Remus smirked. “What’s the expression? A queen is never late?” 

“Ha ha,” she mocked, sliding into her chair to unpack her things. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not looking to run a country, just pass my N.E.W.T.’s. Not all Slytherins are that ambitious.” 

“I could see you as royalty,” Remus said, sinking back into his chair, dramatizing the act of envisioning, enjoying that it made Y/N blush and giggle slightly. 

“Well, Sirius is already basically royalty, so that helps.” 

Remus scoffed, annoyance masking other emotions. “If that’s not true I’m not sure what is.” 

While Remus found his comment funny, something dark fell across Y/N’s face, causing her to teeter in her chair and purse her lips. Remus’ mind scanned the exchange for anything he could have done wrong, but couldn’t find anything. So, he went to ask what was wrong. Before he could, she answered. 

“Speaking of, you’re not mad at Sirius or anything, right?” 

Every bone in Remus turned into brick. Was it fair to say to Sirius’ girlfriend, the obvious messenger of this information, that he didn’t know? Was it fair to say to Sirius’ girlfriend, the cause of this frustration, that he wasn’t sure where the anger was pointed at? Was it fair to his best friend to say everything he wanted to, after hiding for so long, just to end up at more questions, ones he didn’t know the answers to? 

No. So Remus settled with a rather choked up, “Why would I be mad?” 

“He said you two were arguing. Something small that turned into a bigger deal than it needed to be.” 

Oh. So that’s what he thinks of me saying I want him. 

Remus cleared his throat, though he knew it wouldn’t help and it didn’t. “Oh, yeah. Um, I’m over it on a logical level. I’m just waiting for my emotions to catch up.” 

“Cool,” she smiled brightly. “Sirius said almost the same.” 

All of the furniture in the library seemed to topple over for a second. Maybe it was the fact that Remus squinted when he thought, and everything was following the motion of the spiral of his eyelids. Or, maybe, it was the fact that Y/N has just said Sirius wasn’t over their possibility of kissing either. How close they had been; if Remus just leaned in slightly, it would have been breath on breath, lips on lips, with the same softness but necessity of the moonlight echoing itself onto the lake. Was Sirius covering up the same truth Remus had been aching with for the last year? Ever since that stupid game of spin the bottle, when Remus realized it wasn’t cockiness that made him wish the bottle would have pointed to his body on Sirius’ turn, but desire. The hope that if Sirius would have been forced to kiss him, maybe, after doing so, it would turn into something he missed, something he longed for, something he wanted to repeat. 

That was what happened to Remus, after all. 

It was a tall order, though, asking Sirius to switch adorations overnight. Sirius had yearned over Y/N so deeply and thoroughly—Remus once found a scrap of a love poem while cleaning, which caused him pain both from its cheesiness and from a jealousy he had yet to name—it was hard to imagine him loving someone else. Especially someone as ugly and flawed in comparison to her.

Sitting with her here, now, and every time before this, Remus couldn’t blame Sirius for wanting to be with her. She seemed to have the best parts of all of them: Sirius’ mindless beauty, James’ massive heart, Peter’s agreeability, and Remus’ quickness. And then, of course, all of the wonderful qualities that were definitively hers. There were fleeting times in their shared sanctuary of the library that Remus forgot Sirius and his feelings for him. Where, in the privacy of their similarities, Remus forgot he could be happy with anyone except Y/N. 

To restrain complications, he labeled those moments as _I’m that happy because I’m forgetting about Sirius_ , or _My feelings for Sirius are valid because of how happy she is with him_. There was a third option, of course, but that thought was a rainstorm he didn’t want to walk into. 

“Cool,” he agreed. He smiled back at Y/N, genuinely because he was happy to be with her, but also with a certain grittiness, because he was too conflicted to be happy in general. The hidden indifference of it seemed to set the tone for the rest of the meeting, which was far more focused and serious than ones they had had more recently. So focused, in fact, neither noticed the sunset streaking the sky, followed by black falling around outside. 

The next interruption was hours later, by Ms. Greenpaw, the librarian about to retire. Remus adored her instantly; she wore thick, circular coral glasses and called everyone “honey,” even when upset. He wasn’t sure if it was the hours they spent in the library, Ms. Greenpaw's looming retirement, or both, but Remus and Y/N were granted an extra set of magical keys to close the library up if she left before they did. 

“Hi, you two,” she said, pulling Remus’ head out of his book. “Well, I’m headed out for the night. I spelled off most of the candles in here, but I can put more on if you need more.” 

Remus looked up; Ms. Greenpaw wasn’t kidding: every chandelier and sconce was dark except the one over their heads and one near the grand doors. Something inside of him said this was romantic, making him ready to deny, until—

“I’m perfectly fine,” Y/N responded. “Remus?” 

He blanked for a moment. “Yeah, uh… my eyes are already so tired, the softer light is actually pretty nice.” 

“Wonderful! Well, I’ll leave you both to it, then.” 

Y/N called out a note of thanks to Ms. Greenpaw as she walked off—something Remus was still too startled to do. As soon as the doors closed, promising their security, Y/N sofly said Remus’ name. He looked up to her, eyes still slightly narrowed from reading his book. 

“You’ve been so quiet,” she said. She wouldn’t meet his eyes fully, her focus refusing to settle. “I know you don’t usually have issues with Sirius, and you’d think that I’m probably the last person who’d want to hear them fully, since we’re dating. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep secrets from me. You’re still my best friend.” 

She shifted in her seat before continuing: “I know something’s changed since I started dating Sirius. You’ve been more closed off. I don’t want to pretend I know why. So if you want to talk about it, I’m still here for you.” 

A new guilt rose inside of Remus; he had experienced regret from having feelings for Sirius, for those feelings not disappearing the moment Sirius and Y/N got together, and for not knowing the difference between jealousy and desire. But, he had never fathomed that the closed-off-ness he developed while trying to suppress his dangerous emotions would make Y/N believe he no longer trusted her. 

The thought was so overwhelming he immediately said, “You’re one of the most important people in the world to me. And I…” He tilted his head down, unable to bear even her dim silhouette. “I didn’t mean to hide. But it’s better that way. Trust me.” 

“Remus, nothing can be bad enough I don’t care to know.” 

Remus considered the gravity of her statement for a second. Obviously, she couldn’t blame him for loving Sirius. But what would she think of him not knowing how he felt about her? Not understanding how those could exist at the same time? It seemed impossible. 

“No,” Remus decided at once. He got up the next instant, sloppily swiping his belongings into his bookbag. “No. It is bad enough.”

He heard his name being called from across the table, but was off, walking so quickly to the door he was almost running. He heard books sliding across wood, a chair scraping against the floor, a sound that must have been Y/N’s shoes hitting the tile behind him in quick succession, suggesting she was sprinting to catch up to him. But his focus on the door was relentless. Then, there was a tug on his arm that couldn’t be ignored. Out of the surprise of it, his body spiraled around itself: an effect Y/N must not have had anticipated, as she continued moving forwards, resulting in her running into Remus head-on. 

“Y/N,” he gasped. He tried to steady her, but she did so first by clutching onto the shirt fabric around Remus’ chest. Out of some instinct that could not be named, Remus felt his hand moving, fingers gripping around her wrist.

After a few moments of catching her breath, Y/N looked up at Remus. It was only at that moment that Remus recognized how close they were to one another. She already had her hands on him, softening them as she became more stable, and he became dizzier. Especially with the single light behind her, distant now, which made what could happen next seem like a secret capable of keeping, a risk worth taking, a mistake worth making. The world was the way the candlelight shone upon her face, making Remus’ hand twitch with the desire to trace those shadows.

“Y/N,” he said. But it was different this time. 

She looked up at him. At his eyes. At his lips. Remus was going to die right there, in the middle of the library, a corpse good for nothing except loving people he could not bear the affections of. But then, her gaze dropped to the floor. Her voice wavered. “Remus, I just…” 

“I know,” he sighed, nodding in defeat. There were things Remus knew he excelled at—school, not getting in trouble for pranks, hiding the fact he is a werewolf—but in some aspects of life, he had to accept he would always be second to Sirius Black. This was one of them. His corpse was back to being good for nothing except loving people he could not have. 

“But you really don’t. It’s not… this has nothing to do with you. Alright? I just need you to know that much.” 

“Thanks for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech,” Remus scowled. “How comforting. I’m touched.” He wanted to put his hand to his heart for dramatic effect, but Y/N’s hands were still on his chest. Regardless of how he knew the length of time they stayed there would make their release all the more painful, Remus wanted them to stay, the pathetic idiot he was. 

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said. “I just can’t do that to Sirius. To be honest, I think I’m in love with him. And I think he might feel the same.” 

Remus scoffed: Y/N saying Sirius might love her was the understatement of the century. But he didn’t focus on that. He couldn’t. Instead, what intrigued him was this thought: “So, in the condition, you weren’t with Sirius, you’d kiss me. Is that what you’re saying?” 

Remus was surprised at how calm his voice came out; he was even more surprised, however, by how panicked Y/N’s was. “Listen… it’s just that I may have had a massive thing for you when we first met, and for a bit afterward.” Remus was sad and elated all at once; to know he could be loved was revolutionary, but realizing he had missed his chance with the girl he now was mad for was an emptiness that was beginning to slowly eat him from the inside out.

He covered all of the sinews of his emotions with anger: “So what you’re saying is that you only chose Sirius because I wasn’t available?” 

“No,” Y/N demanded. She yanked her hands back to her own body: a testament to her level of frustration. “I didn’t go to him because I was sad and lonely and heartbroken and wanted to use him. I liked him at the same time as you. I just couldn’t figure out who I liked more. You took yourself out of the running, so I accepted his invitation to Hogsmeade. And I’m happy I did.” 

Remus blinked, dazed. “Can you say that again?” 

“Why? You heard me.” 

“No, just the part—” 

“The part where I refuted your claim that I only wanted to date Sirius because I couldn’t date you, which, if I would have done, would make me a rude, selfish, manipulative person?” 

“I didn’t…” Remus struggled, biting the bottom of his lip in agony, wishing he could bring her closer so she could see the blood that was sure to come up, how much he hated himself for having said that. “I didn’t mean that. Okay? I’ve been such a git today. I’ve been completely awful to you. I’m sorry for saying that, and for making you think I didn’t trust you. I’m just… I’m really confused about some things right now. And I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry.” 

Suddenly, all of the anger, the screaming, the vehemence disappeared, leaving nothing but a quietness strong enough to drive any man crazy. Remus stood as Y/N considered him, her thoughts impossible to know. She kept looking and thinking. Remus was just standing. It felt like forever. 

She finally spoke. “I don’t want to force anything out of you,” she said, words were spoken with meticulous care that echoed what they meant. “I just think that maybe you’re exploding because you’re bottling things up, and nothing can be figured out if it’s never put out into the world to be understood.” 

Remus wanted to protest, but every part of his body that wasn’t his mouth knew that Y/N was right, so he couldn’t. Instead, he shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going to like what you are going to hear.” 

“We’ve already fought,” Y/N shrugged. “If it’s bad enough it’s doing that, I think we’ve got to just rip the bandaid off.” 

Remus breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. There were so many confusing truths inside of his body; if someone were to put his tears in a Pensieve, all that would be floating around were thoughts of Y/N and Sirius, together, apart, in love, in love with him. He saw them all right now in the black of his eyelids. But how many to say now? Which to choose first? 

Some part of Remus that wasn’t his mind answered for him. 

“Y/N, I have feelings for Sirius.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part, and includes too many italicized words and usages of “oh” (which are almost always italicized). 
> 
> from Y/N's POV

How to describe Sirius and Remus? Y/N could do so simply, stating they were her closest friends, easily the two most important people in her life. But that wouldn’t include the whole of it. The way each of them were so different that both were essential to the functions of her heart. 

Sirius was like a catchy tune: people got drawn to him. Even if he got annoying and overbearing, there was something that made him impossible to distance yourself from fully. And like a catchy tune, you wouldn’t expect there to be more than one layer to him, but that was wrong entirely. He wore leather and confidence, but only because he knew what it did for him, not because it matched what was held underneath. He knew about himself—his fears, hopes, failures, self-destructive tendencies—well enough to know how to look like he had none of them. Then there was Remus. The opposite. There was nothing about him that didn’t suggest introspection, from books to sweaters to tea to somehow swerving away from the Marauder reputation by being difficult to associate with petty pranks. But, while it seemed to be easy for him to dive deep into the depths of his soul, he always stood shivering at the shore before turning away, afraid of what he’d find under cold water. But with terror came beauty, and Remus couldn’t see past the first part to understand how gorgeous he was. 

They were both wonderful in different ways: if Sirius was the sun, Remus was the shade that protected you. If Remus was a cup of tea, Sirius was the sugar that made it palatable. It was hard not to love one and not the other because it seemed as if both were necessary to survive.  
Or, at least, that was the problem Y/N was facing. 

Y/N remembered the first time she saw both. It was hard to look away from Sirius; sometimes, Y/N swore that his purpose was to be admired. But, in a similar vein, it was hard to ignore Remus. While, out of the rest of them, James was too earnest to be captivating and Peter too unsure of himself to be found attractive, Remus was quiet in the way he knew he didn’t have to give himself up to gain attention. Remus was identical to the pages he read: once you finished one, you couldn’t help flipping to the next. 

She hadn’t meant, or expected, either adorations to turn into crushes. Instantly, she had wanted to be friends with the whole lot of them. Not even the cold blood was enough to turn her away; in fact, with her Slytherin ambition, showing her ability to make friendships despite the rivalry became part of the appeal. But, unbeknownst to her, feelings had started. With Remus, they were the moments he was loud and obnoxious and so bloody smart it was hard to be anything except amazed. Similarly, Sirius was at his easiest to fall in love with when he was without facades, wearing some torn-up jumper that belonged to one of “his lads”—almost always Remus—and speaking very quietly of whatever came to his mind first. They were two sides of the same coin, one that Y/N wished she could hold between her fingers, that Y/N wished she could keep. 

At first, because of her platonic intention, Sirius’ obvious interest was overwhelming, like lights being flashed on in a room right after darkness, not giving eyes time to adjust. But once her eyes had adjusted, they could barely look at anyone else, envision anyone else kissing her; holding her hand; laying on her bed with her, bodies forming shapes that fit one another perfectly. 

Remus was chillingly indifferent. When Y/N stated her wishes that someone would ask her to Hogsmeade—subconsciously, this was a complaint that _Remus_ wasn’t doing so—Remus brushed it off casually, saying that someday someone would come along who would treat her right. The heartbreak of it made her realize how deep her emotions were for him; she was willing to waste her life trying to catch an unreachable moon just so Remus wouldn’t have to endure being transformed by it every month. And, when she inevitably failed, at least he’d know he was worth a whole lifetime. 

So she picked Sirius, not through a choice, but through a lack of one. Because, if Y/N truly had her way, she would choose both. 

But apparently, Remus wouldn’t. Not based on what he had just said to her, moments after some stupid, hopeful part of Y/N thought they might have kissed. 

The sounds of the words Remus had said were gone, but the weight pulled the room down, including everything inside of Y/N. Her soul felt like the library: all the brightness was sucked out except for two small lights that weren’t enough to make her feel alive anymore. 

“Oh.” She meant to say it, but she whispered it instead. Or sighed it. 

For the first time in a long time since meeting and getting to know Remus, her eyes did not want to meet his face.

Silence followed. A long one; so long that it transcended tension and peace to turn into an overwhelming shallowness, the same kind Y/N felt inside of her chest as she stood waiting. She knew instinctively that Remus’ mouth was opening and closing above her, trying sentences in his head before realizing he didn’t want to say them out loud. Y/N wished he would have planned the sentence he had said before with that kind of carefulness. Since when was Remus so spontaneous, anyway? When did he make the decision to abandon so much of what made him _him,_ even if it was in the name of honesty? 

The first sound was Remus’ swallow. Then, his hand brushing through his hair. Then, his voice, saying, “I didn’t mean that to say I don’t want you to be with him. I’ve never seen him happier.” There was such sadness in the admission, the kind of sadness that is made of happiness. The kind of sadness that is made of love.

Instantly, something within Y/N shifted. Anger disappeared. She looked up to Remus and she could see it on his face, on the purse of his lips and twisting of his eyes and lock of his jaw: Remus really was in love with Sirius. Or at least could love him. If given the chance. 

“I can’t just…” Y/N started, drifting, struggling to say anything because words felt so loud. “You’re… you’re my best friend. How am I supposed to just sit around dating him in front of you in good conscience? You’ve put me in quite a position here. Either I hurt you until you get over him, or I hurt him to spare you.” 

“Please, don’t do anything for me,” Remus automatically replied. “Really, that wasn’t a cry for pity—” 

“Then why the hell did you tell me that?” 

Remus tugged on his hair. “I don’t know! I just couldn’t bear lying to you anymore!” 

“Then want to know something else true?” Y?N said, despite her stomach telling her to stop talking, saying that this was a terrible idea, one rooted out of nothing except anger and childishness. “I fucking, I fucking had feelings for you, Remus. But you were so fucking indifferent, always brushing me aside, making me feel like I was just another person to you, no one special. I stayed in. I stayed for you. Struggled silently, hurting every damn day, just because I knew you didn’t mean it. Why couldn’t you have just waited until… until…” 

Her words faded into a tense silence. Remus lifted an eyebrow at her. “Until what? Until I got over him?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you just say it? I don’t…” 

Remus was looking at her, and she was doing everything to collapse into herself, to not let her red cheeks be noticed, to make them disappear. _“Oh.”_ He paused. A single moment encapsulating a thousand different ones. “Y/N, do you still have feelings for me?” 

Y/N laid her hands out in front of her, her body ready to express a logical counter argument her mind could not provide. Her stature sunk.

“What does it matter?” 

“It matters because…” Remus hesitated, hands still in his hair, running through it desperately. “Okay, if we’re being very honest here, which we are, I need you to know that, um, a lot of the reason I’m not dating Sirius is because I’m conflicted between him and someone else, someone else who is also in a relationship… and it could work, but I… I’m not sure…” 

“How to politely ask me to remove myself from my own relationship?” Y/N offered. 

Remus’ face hardened. “No,” he said. It was stern, absolute. All at once, Y/N understood. 

Just as suddenly, there was a gasp of wood from the side. Y/N turned to the door, finding Sirius there. He had a look of confusion nearing pain on his face and Remus’ jumper on. 

Oh, Y/N realized. _Oh._

If the rumors and legends were true, this could have been the last moment of her life: everything was coming back in flashes. There were fuzzy, alcohol-smudged scenes of parties, where, in something she misnamed as drunken dumbfuckery, Remus and Sirius were dancing with bodies close together, laughter taking up every part of their mouths. Times that she would see Sirius leaning in close to whisper something in Remus’ ear, Remus’ ears turning pink regardless of how many times it must have been done before. There were all the times that Y/N turned around in class to meet Remus’ eyes, just to find they were already on her. When she would borrow Remus’ jumper from Sirius and Remus wouldn’t protest; “It fits you,” he had said, which she had taken far too literally. The fact that Sirius wore that jumper more than Remus, yet Remus would never protest. The late nights of crying herself to sleep, afraid that she had made the wrong choice, because she wanted not one, but both of them. 

She looked back to Remus first. He was already looking at her. “Wait here,” she whispered, fighting the urge to kiss him on the cheek nonchalantly before turning and walking towards Sirius. 

This was it. This had to be it. 

Y/N got to Sirius faster than she had meant too, but had no time to feel self-conscious about it. “I need you alone for a second,” she said. Her hands were on his arm, redirecting him out into the corridor before he had time to protest. 

Once they were alone, door closed, Sirius’ body instinctively adjusted into an argument stance: there was a rolling back of his shoulders, a cocking of his chin, a tense spot in his jaw, a crossing of his arms. “You were real fucking close in there, Y/N. In dim light, after six hours together… he’s not your boyfriend! I am! I barely even see you today and when I finally find you you’re almost kissing him.” 

Y/N waited, trying to cover the ache in her chest with an unbothered expression. She knew she needed to apologize, but had to wait: they didn’t have time for this argument right then. They might never have to have it again, too, if she was right. She hoped she was right. 

“You have a right to be jealous of him,” she admitted. “But, let me ask you something: are you jealous of me?” 

Sirius’ muscles softened, or, maybe, they buckled under the pressure of him having been uncovered. It was too soon to know, too similar to tell. He opened his mouth, then closed it. The anger in his eyes was transformed into pain.

Y/N reached to touch his face. The way he melted into her touch was enough to break her heart, again. “Sirius. I’m not asking about what this means for us right now. I just need to know, honestly, how you feel about Remus.” 

“It’s complicated,” he frowned. 

“It might _complicate,_ but it’s not _complicated._ Even if things change because of how you feel, I will always love you so much. It would be unfair to ask you to tell me the truth and then get mad at you for doing it.” 

With a deep exhale underneath Remus’ jumper and his lips, warm, against the side of Y/N’s hand, Sirius said, “I have feelings for him. So many. It’s painful.” 

_I know. God, I know,_ Y/N thought to herself. How could anyone meet Remus and not be madly, irresistibly, unforgivably in love with him? It was foolish of her to think she could not love him; it was nice to know that someone else had also been equally mindless. Perhaps this was something that made Sirius and Y/N so compatible. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N decided upon saying. She brushed her thumb against his stubbled cheek. “I just need to know, does this change how you feel about me? What dating me means?” 

Sirius’ eyes met hers instantly. “Merlin, no. I’m still so ridiculously into you, too, which is why I never told you about Remus—because I usually tell you about everything—because I didn’t know what it meant. I was so confused. I still am.” 

“Sirius.” She stepped closer to him, feeling her eyes fill with tears, either from understanding his sadness or from realizing both of them were helping create it for so long. _“I know.”_

His eyes were angry again, despite the fact hers were wet. 

“I know. I understand. God, Sirius, I have feelings for him too! And I hid it for so long, because I thought he didn’t feel the same, and I liked you so much, and I didn’t know I didn’t have to choose between the two of you.” 

“You didn’t? You don’t?” Sirius asked with such shock, it came out as a scream. 

A relief, golden as sunlight, filled Y/N so deeply that she could only shake her head in response, too overwhelmed to do anything else. The tension that was held inside of her for so long was finally undone and all she could see was how possible everything was now.

“He told me he feels like we do about him. It’s been so simple! All of this time, Sirius. It’s absolutely ridiculous.” 

Sirius layered his hand on top of Y/N’s, tracing the curvature of her knuckles. “I want to barge in there and kiss that fucker right now,” he admitted, a laugh blossoming out of Y/N’s mouth. “But I want to ask: are you 100 percent on this? I know we just started dating, and I always felt like I was so much more eager than you, but you met me there. But this seems a lot… bigger. I don’t want you to go beyond what you can handle for me. You can still have me. No matter what you say. I promised I’d stick by you.” 

Y/N pulled herself up to Sirius, kissing him, mouth absorbing the weight of the words he just said, but knowing this was something good. She pulled away sooner than she wanted to. Sirius looked both more rooted and more disheveled. “I know, Sirius. That’s why I’m okay with this. I trust you. I know you won’t push me aside. And I won’t leave you, either. I love you, and this is about all three of us, not any two of us.” 

“As long as Remus is comfortable,” Sirius piped up. 

“As long as Remus is comfortable,” Y/N agreed. 

They both looked over at the closed library door. Something that was keeping Remus outside all of this. A threshold he’d have to be invited to cross, and would want to. 

Sirius was the first to ask the looming question. “How do we…” 

“You go,” Y/N offered, automatically getting his eyes on her for the demand of it. “This has been forever for you, hasn’t it? Since you met.” 

“Yeah.” It was soft. He was flustered, a blush creeping up his neck, as if Y/N hadn’t seen him do much more embarrassing things. Loving Remus Lupin was not something to be embarrassed about. 

“Then you deserve to be the one. Plus, he’s your best mate. And I’ve had to deal with him for six bloody hours.” 

Sirius laughed, and everything felt better. “Okay,” he breathed. “Wish me luck?” 

Y/N wanted to yell at him, knock some sense into him. _He’s bloody in love with you!_ she wanted to shout. But it was too true to be cocky. Something struck her here: the fact that, while deeply in love with the both of them and utterly confused, Remus had to hear Sirius say this before asking Y/N out. Sadness kept finding its way in, as much as it felt wrong, as much as Y/N refused it. 

“Good luck, love,” Y/N said. He released her hand, slid away from her, slipped between the doors, and was gone. 

It was difficult, those minutes that felt like years, spent waiting for Sirius to explain himself to Remus. But it felt right. She had so much time with both of them separately that it was their time to come to terms for what this meant for them. There was also something so private in the intimacy of a first kiss; if they wanted to share theirs now, Y/N felt as though they should have the room to do so. And what place is better than a dark, musty library, as secret in the night as their love for one another, filled with as much logic as Remus and as much mystery as Sirius? 

When the door finally opened, only one body emerged. It was Remus. He looked different, like something that was knocked over and finally set upright. He was smiling in a devilish way. Y/N knew instantly that they had kissed; it was the implantation of Sirius’ lips on his that had left his mouth hanging in the same crooked way that Sirius’ always does. 

“Hi,” she offered, lamely. The result was rather surprising: Remus' smile straightened and softened. It was so true she almost had to look away from him. Again. 

Remus came up to her, close enough to do so much—her mind was raking through possibilities—but failing to; she knew from six years of knowing him that this wasn’t due to anything except respect for her. She loved him more for it. Somehow. 

“Sirius told me everything,” he said. “And I’d be the happiest person in the entire world if I got to have both of you.” 

Y/N understood Sirius’ earlier sudden shyness: hearing Remus say that made her knees weaken and the words she had planned to say jumbled up inside of her head. The only thing she could think to respond with was, “How was the kiss?” 

Remus’ smirk was back. “How’d you know?” 

“You looked triumphant and cocky. It was obvious.” Remus laughed, hand finding the back of his neck to rub it. She felt the need to add, “It makes sense, considering how long you waited for that kiss.” 

“Well…” he took a step in, close enough his mouth was almost touching Y/N’s, but still failing to. “There’s still one more I’m waiting for. If you’ll have me.”

“Yeah,” she said, already breathless. “Of course I will.” 

Y/N’s heart was beating impossibly fast as Remus stepped close, cupped her cheek, and led his mouth onto hers. She thought she’d have the ability to compare his kiss to Sirius’. She thought wrong; it was too consuming—not in the intensity but the depth of it, the realness of it—it was impossible for her to think about anything except the fact she was kissing Remus Lupin. She was kissing Remus Lupin. It had worked. It had all worked out. She had Remus’ right hand on her cheek, the left trailing up the back of her head. She had his sweater in the clutches of her fists, a silent ask for more. She had Remus’ tongue in her mouth—she had Remus _goddamned tongue_ in her mouth—turning her stomach into a night sky riddled with fireworks. It was too surreal to be real. But it was. 

When they parted, they were both breathless. Y/N released her fists to allow her fingers to instead draw random shapes across Remus’ sturdy chest. She felt happy, at peace. Yet there was still something missing. 

“Sirius,” she called from over Remus’ shoulder. “Open that damn door and get over here!” 

He appeared instantaneously. Without explanation, he spelled the lights off inside of the library, and produced a key from his pocket which he then used to lock the door. 

Sirius came up to them, attaching himself to Remus’ side in the same way he always had, but leaning into him more than usual, as if to say _this is how I always have felt, but now I can show it._ Y/N scanned both of their faces, two beautiful boys, scarred and wonderful in their own ways, and hers. 

“Walk me home?” she asked. They both nodded, starting off into the night. A natural formation befell the three of them: Remus standing in the center, Sirius leaning into him in a way that demanded Remus to wrap his arm around his waist, and Y/N holding Remus’ hand, his thumb stroking her palm. All around them, evening was whispering, with cricket chirps, light breezes, and clouds shifting the moonlight from above. It was soft and calm and real, real, real. Somehow. It was real.


End file.
